


Lightwood

by mwinterknights12



Series: 'Stormborn' series [1]
Category: Elder Scrolls V: Skyrim
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-10-27
Updated: 2017-12-06
Packaged: 2019-01-23 22:28:42
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,176
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12517980
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mwinterknights12/pseuds/mwinterknights12
Summary: Chaos is ensuing in Skyrim. Rumors of dragon and the Dovahkiin are spreading throughout the land. Ulfric Stormcloak is continuing his war for his place as High King of Skyrim. Ashlynn Lightwood, a cunning con-artist, finds herself entrapped within the bloody underground world of Markarth only to find herself falling in love with her target. Will she manage to unravel the backhanded dealings of Markarth's nobles, or will she end up as corrupt as Skyrim's bloodiest city?





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Hi guys! So this has been an idea rolling around in my brain for a moment. This chapter is brief as it is just a small idea in the works. To understand more of what's going on in the Skyrim universe, you will how to check out my other work 'Stormborn'. Now this is just a side project, so I will be focusing on the main book, but I'm excited to work on this one on the side. Thanks for the support! :)

The wisp of the wind carried a crisp chill that left Ashlynn frozen to the marrow of her bones. Their voices suffocated the sound of the roaring air, as if they were drowning out the voice of Skyrim. Her cloak found itself entangled within the grasp of one of her Companions. Faendal tried as best he could to keep her in place, knowing the girl would reveal her allegiances if she tried to rescue the man. Yet, the Wood elf had underestimated his friend. Facing the unforgiving blast of cold, Ashlynn allowed her cloak to fall, leaving her in only the thin coverings of her armor. The leather was tattered and worn, reeking of blood and liquor. Yet, none of the Nords seemed to pay attention to the Imperial girl as she pushed herself closer to the front of the crowd.

            The headman’s axe glittered in the faint beams of sunlight that peeked through the gray clouds. He was in chains, stripped of his robes. The fur and bones which had been blessed by the Old Gods had been tossed aside in preference of ragged robes, held together by splintering, woven twine. Yet, even as a prisoner, the young man maintained his dignity. Black and purple bruises littered his arms, mangling his tattoos with bleeding welts which were sure to contract infection. His once beautiful, long, raven braid had been shaved as a form of torture to shame him. He should have been broken, ragged and defeat, yet Nemo stood tall. His amber eyes scanned the crowd, looking for one thing. His honey eyes finally caught the sight of her gray irises and for a moment she stood frozen in place.

            It was as if the wind had paused. She could no longer feel the numbness spreading through her limbs from the cold. The voices of the crowd had faded away. Time stood still for a perfect moment that broke her heart. The pain…it was the only thing that reminded her that her heart was still beating. Dreams of what would have been passed between them in a single glance. There might have been children, marriage, family; the dream almost every Nord woman had at least once in her life. Not Ashlynn; she cared little for any of that. She wanted her freedom. She didn’t need the mundane comforts that most men and women desired, never wanted to settle down. She didn’t care where they would have been, or how they would have lived so long as they would have been together.

            The scent of his skin; like raw fire and pine. She could feel the callouses of his hands against her skin as if he were touching her once more. A seductive heat washed over her until it was replaced with pure terror. As she drank in the sight of his amber eyes, she realized that it might be the last time she ever stared into them. This was just another fleeting moment in the story of their life, another body she would have to burry. But Ashlynn couldn’t stand to lose this one, she couldn’t stand to lose _him_. Take her wealth, take her dreams, take her life; if only to spare the pure soul in front of her.

 

            All of it came crashing down on her in a wave that felt so heavy that her knees trembled. How had they gotten here? How had they fallen so quickly in the trap? And was it possible that he could survive?

            Nemo fell to his knees, his eyes never leaving hers. There was a flash of regret, as if some unsaid words still hung heavy on his tongue. He faced the ridicule of the mob as they tossed their refuse in his direction. Ashlynn realized she was crying now as she pushed and fought her way towards the front. She knew there was nothing she could do. She had no weapons, no armor, no way to fight for his life; but she had to try.

            The headman raised his axe above his neck; some silvery reaper that would steal away all she ever cared about in a moment. She had to make it. She had to face him. Crawling underneath the legs of larger men who were cursing his name in their ignorance, Ashlynn finally made her way to the front facing stone. Nemo was watching, his eyes begging her to not continue. His lips moved, trying to mouth some secret message in her direction. Yet she could not understand. All she could hear was the sound of the whipping wind as the axe came down.

“ **Nemo!”**


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This book is very different from my main story. It's very crass and almost more humorous. I hope you enjoy it. :)

_One year earlier…_

            Riverwood, although a small shanty village, was a town full of many war heroes and villains. Perhaps it was simply that in a land quiet, safe, and secure, the ordinary could flourish into the extraordinary. At least that was the tale Ashlynn kept chanting to herself over and over again as she continued to chop wood for the eighth day in a row. The Imperial girl was tiny, barely over five feet with skinny legs and flat chest. Yet, she was never a stranger to hard work. Her father had worked day in and day out as a blacksmith, and had even attempted to teach her the trade. However, the girl had no luck at shaping metal and had labeled herself unteachable. It would take a couple of years before her father reached the same conclusion.

            However, no amount of inaptitude would ever encourage the proud man to have his daughter work in the mines. His wife, Helena, had worked in the iron mines on the outskirts of the town before it had become prey to bandits and other outcasts. He knew that the labor was hard, had even encouraged the woman to put down the pick, but she was a stubborn old mule; a trait that her daughter had also developed through her nurturing. It didn’t last long though. The woman had died when she was eleven from some disgusting disease that turned her lungs black and made it nearly impossible to breathe.

            It was from that day that Ashlynn began to develop the skills of her real trade; the silver tongue. Somehow, the girl had managed to swindle many men (and sometimes women) out of their coin. Whether it was through sex, liquor, or sometimes just plain old lies, Ashlynn was almost never light on coin. At one point in time, the Thieves Guild had even approached her due to her aptitude for legal thievery. Gem, if she remembered the name correctly, had been very forward in her pursuits. But still, Ashlynn had refused. Not due to her moral guidelines, of course, but because the job would have taken her far away from her little shithole of village. The village where her then sick and blind father remained. As much as she would have wanted to leap at the chance to join the Guild and abandon what she perceived to be a little piss-hole of a town, she was too proud and too loyal to leave her father behind. When the man finally passed, she had traveled to Riften to approach the Guild Master again, she had been left bitterly disappointed. One of the lapdogs, Rune (who she would later have a tumble with at the Bee and Bard), had informed her that the girl was traveling for gods know whatever reason. It seemed everything in her life was going to shit.

 

            It seemed as though nothing more could possibly go wrong until bloody dragons started prancing about the skies with their fiery breath which just so happened to be capable of destroying towns, livestock and melting bones. Ashlynn was hell-bent on keeping her bones in their solid, non-charred form, so she was trying as best she could to gather enough to coin to settle into one of the well-secured city (because of course, Jarl Balgruuf could only be bothered to send a small group of his ‘elite’ soldiers to protect the town). Ashlynn really shouldn’t have complained about the soldiers though. Their silver and big cocks had been enough to keep her satisfied.

Faendal dropped a pile of logs next to her, breaking her from her thoughts. He pulled out a leather canteen and took a swig from it before sitting down next to her.

“Sven didn’t come into work again today. That damn bard is driving me crazy.” Faendal complained “All he wants to do is drink and win over women with his pretty words.”

 

“All women or just one woman?” Ashlynn teased. She had had her fair share of men in her time living within the village of Riverwood, some would say a bit more than a share (that would have mostly been Alvor’s wife, but that was simply because she had caught Ashlynn sucking him off one night when she had been too drunk to consider the fact that she had younger and more handsome options.) Sven had been one of those options, although she was too scared of the potential diseases that could come with taking a tumble with him.

 

“Camilla Valerius is too beautiful and smart to fall for poetic words.” he muttered “At least I hope.”

“Yes because when have poems ever blossomed into love?” Ashlynn replied in a lavish fashion “You don’t seem too sure, my friend.”

“Well, I have an idea, but you’re not going to like it.” he replied “But I think I could give you some coin for to add to your savings in exchange for your help.”

   Ashlynn was curious at the prospect. She had never been one to swindle a friend, not that she had many to begin with. Faendal was one of the few that she considered as such. She had a better idea in mind.

“I want a better deal.”

“I don’t have much more to give you.” Faendal said, exasperated.

“I’ll do whatever task you need to win over the precious Camilla, but I want you to come with me when I leave.” Ashlynn said

“What?” The Wood Elf was astounded, he had never pictured leaving Riverwood. “Where would we even go, what would we do? I can’t afford to go to a new city without the promise of work.”

“Leave that to me.” Ashlynn grinned “You know that I can do anything I set my mind to.”

“Or anyone.” Faendal retorted with a grin “But what of Camilla? I couldn’t dream of leaving her behind if she would have me.”

            Ashlynn scoffed, nearly choking on her the idea of Faendal settling down with that old spinster. Camilla was pretty, but she was no saint, although she pretended to be one. On more than one occasion, Ashlynn had seen her shack up with Orgnaar at the Sleeping Giant in. Why she hadn’t decided to ease Faendal’s longings was beyond her.

“Trust me friend, once you stick your cock in her, you’ll be satisfied and hungry for the opportunity of new and exciting sexual adventures.” Ashlynn said, “Now I’ll make sure your little friend down there is wet, if you agree to come with me.”

“Fine, if it will satisfy you.” Faendal finally submitted “Now my idea was-

“Fuck your idea.” Ashlynn said, “I have a better one. Give me a quill and a piece of parchment. I think I can mimic that Nord’s lack of talent perfectly.”

 

    An hour later, Ashlynn returned with a letter. Faendal didn’t bother to read it. She rolled her eyes, stuffing the letter inside her pouch and making her way over to the Riverwood Traders.

 

Inside, Camilla was tending to the hearth. It was no wonder that all the men in town fancied her. She was a slender woman with dark curls and bright blue eyes. Her cheeks and lips were the color of roses. However, she always seemed tired as if this wasn’t the life that she had dreamed for herself. It was an exhaustion that Ashlynn was far too familiar with.

“Oh, hello again Ashlynn.” she said with a pleasant smile.

“Hello Camilla.” she said quickly “I have something for you from Sven.”

“Oh, it’s probably another poem. He certainly knows how to charm a girl.” she said as she took the letter from the girl. She opened it quickly anticipation, her eyes quickly taking in the words. “What is this? If that bard thinks that I’m going to cook and clean for him- You tell Sven that he already has a mother. I work hard enough as it is without adding a lazy fool to the mix. He needn’t bother anymore with his silly poetry.”

   Ashlynn nodded, barely containing her laugher, and took her leave quickly. Outside, Faendal was waiting for her.

“Did she read it? What happened?”

“I don’t think she’ll be seeing Sven anymore.”

“Did I ever tell you that you are my best friend?” Faendal cheesed.

“Yes, yes.” Ashlynn said, “Make sure that you have your fill with her before I come up with a plan to get us the hell out of this pisshole.”


End file.
